


Out-Of-Scope Assignment

by Minuete



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crooked politician, Episode: s07e12 X-Cops, F/M, Italian Mafia, Light Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Dana Scully, Russian Mafia, Undercover, it was on Twitter, post-episode, prompt answered, season 7, silly story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19324147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuete/pseuds/Minuete
Summary: Mulder and Scully go on an undercover assignment again aboard the Queen Mary.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RationalCashew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RationalCashew/gifts).



> Original Prompt:If you WANT to tackle the Twitter prompt where Scully dresses up in the 1939 wardrobe for a costume party and Mulder loses his shit, you’d definitely get bonus points. Lol but the most important thing is: have fun with it, don’t stress, & write what you write best.

Long Beach, CA aboard the  _Queen Mary_   6:36 pm

Scully was ready to kill Mulder.  At least the thought of murdering him; he definitely made it on her top 3 persons to strangle.  Why didn’t she refuse this assignment on the grounds of being out-of-scope?  Oh, that’s right: the task force had no other choice.  Scully  shook  her head slightly, clearing the negative thoughts, as she handed the usher ,  standing by the Grand Salon room on the Queen Mary ,  a fundraising invitation for one then promptly got in line  to check in her ivory colored cloak.    A shot of adrenaline coursed through her body as her heart rate increased.  She managed to keep a calm façade as the young woman she knew was an undercover FBI agent handed her a coat check return ticket.   Scully took in the grandeur of the vaulted ceilings, the ornate wall carvings and columns, and the mural atop the grand entrance as she turned a full 360.  The elegance of the room was tastefully decorated with over 20 tables covered in champagne-colored table cloths, gilded gold dinnerware, and topped with floral centerpieces consisting of mauve-and-white-colored roses and lilies.  The fundraising event was a themed 1940’s  black-tie  costume event, complete with a live band playing jazz songs.  Another usher motioned her over to the seating chart table where she already knew she was arranged to be seated beside the crooked ,  local congressman by the undercover task force.

“Hello, Miss...?” the usher trailed off.

“Autumn Delaney,” Scully answered with a small smile.  The usher looked down at the long guest list and marked her off.

“Of course, Miss Delaney.  Tonight, your seat is in Table 3.  You’ll be sitting beside Congressman Douglas Lane and a few of his long-time associates.”  

Scully politely thanked the usher and meandered her way to Table 3.  Her first directive was to be noticed by the other guests.  She didn’t think it was an issue given the attire she wore: a floor-length, crimson-colored, trumpet mermaid-shaped  gown  with a  V -neck cut that gave the illusion she packed more than C-cup breasts.  The back of the dress sloped a little past her mid-back updating the 1940’s fashion.   Scully managed to somewhat style her hair  in a  1940’s fashion with a couple of bobby pins  pinned  on her left , allowing her natural curls to be let loose  while having her right side hid e  the small, wireless earpiece.   Her makeup was minimalistic with slightly smoky eyes and lipstick the same shade as her gown.   She  absentmindedly ran her free hand down the side of her satin dress while  the other  was holding onto  a clutch that housed  her  Glock  when suddenly  someone bumped into her  from  the side. 

“ Excus —“ she started until she looked up and saw Mulder dressed as one of the servers.  She kept her face passive, though her blue eyes blazed bright at him impressing her annoyance and anger at their situation.  She watched as his eyes  widened in surprise then  raked over her  attire  taking in her appearance. She noticed his  jaw  clenching as his  darkened hazel eyes flitted  back  up  to her face . She felt  an unbidden blush  form on her cheeks as she heard Mulder let out a  breath .

“ My apologies, M iss,” he said  in an even tone.   He held out a tray full of white wine glasses , then  handed one of the glasses to Scully.   Without breaking eye contact, she reached out and held onto the upper stem of the glass, feeling Mulder’s fingers bend and stroke her palm.   If not for their seven -year history , the other guests would’ve seen an obvious flinch from her—  but no.   She’s relatively immune to Mulder’s touches , though she felt her face flush even more .  He  duck ed  his head down , still maintaining their eye contact ,  and  smiled a knowing smile  that he did affect her .   _ Jerk _ , she thought , as she gently pulled the  wine  glass  out of his hand.  As she proceeded to her table, she heard Mulder’s voice in her earpiece stating that everyone is in position. 


	2. Discovery and the Rolls Royce

Willow Park , CA 13  hours earlier ,  5:35 am

“And that’s a wrap!” a  camera crewman shouted from behind Scully.  She quickly whipped her head around and groaned.

“They were still recording?! I was  explaining my philosophy on the concept of fear.”  She  pressed her fingers on her temples, fighting back a tension headache that had been building up since the night started.  Mulder gently grabbed her elbow and led her away from the group of cops and camera crew as they  slowly dispersed for the day.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll cut that out.  It’s not interesting enough for  a COPS  episode, Scully .”  His attempt to console Scully earned him a glare.   She sighed as she watched the last police car drive off.  

“I can’t wait to get home.  When’s our flight out?” She looked over at Mulder whose posture was hunched, hands in his jacket pockets, as he seemed to focus on toeing a weed in the sidewalk.

“Right…about that…Skinner didn’t initially approve of this case for us to fly out to Southern California.  So I agreed to another assignment he tacked on to fulfill a favor he had for  the  Associate  Director  In Charge of the  LA  field  office.   He mentioned it was some bodyguard work for a local congressman .  The briefing is at  9  am sharp held in  Long Beach .”

Scully was at a loss for words as she glared incredulously at Mulder.  They weren’t flying back.  They had another assignment lined up that Mulder conveniently didn’t mention.  She let out a huff then stormed back to their rental car parked a couple of blocks away.  It wasn’t until she was away from Mulder that she could think straight.  Why is the FBI involved in playing bodyguard for a local congressman?  Shouldn’t that be the police’s job? Couldn’t he hire a private security firm?  Mulder arrived at the rental car a couple of minutes later.  Before she could ask, Mulder voiced her thought and said, “I know. I find it fishy that the FBI is involved in playing bodyguard too.  I suspect we’re dealing with a crooked politician.”

Scully sighed as she settled in the passenger seat.  Feeling jet-lagged and being awake for more than 24 hours, she told herself that she was going to rest her eyes for a few seconds.  She woke up when the rental car came to a full stop as Mulder set the car in park and turned off the engine.  Dazed, she blinked several times and looked around.  She recognized the Ferris wheel from a distance.

“We’re at the Santa Monica Beach?” she asked with a slight upturn of her lips.  She got out of the car and walked to the edge of the parking lot where the sand started.  After a few minutes of staring at the beach and listening to the waves crash and seagulls cawing overhead, she looked over her shoulder to see Mulder leaning against the hood of the car observing her.  

“Wanna grab some food? Someone recommended Cora’s Coffee Shoppe to me.  My treat,” Mulder said.  Scully could see the remorse on his face with his damn soulful puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, sure, Mulder.  By the way, that someone was me. C’mon, it’s just down the PCH.”  They both situated themselves in the car.  As Mulder turned his head to look out the rearview window, Scully thanked him in a low voice.  He merely nodded with a faint smirk on his lips.  Within minutes, he pulled into the coffee shop’s small parking lot beside a black Rolls Royce with a Russian license plate.  Mulder whistled.

“Looks like this car is far from home,” he said as he got out of the car.  Scully furrowed her brows. 

“It’s weird seeing a Rolls Royce in SoCal like it’s out of place.”

“Well, where do you think you’d usually find one?”

“Hmm...I don’t know.  Maybe Silicon Valley? Manhattan? The Hamptons?”  Mulder held the door open for her and placed his hand on her lower back to guide her across the threshold.  He had an amused smile. 

“Definitely in the Hamptons, Scully.”  The two were led to an enclosed outdoor patio dining area  with  a  French bistro design, complete with metal patio tables and chairs with armrests.  The  waitress  motioned  them to  sit at  a table less than five feet away from two men in suits.  One of the men appeared to be in his mid-to-late 40’s with graying hair around his temples and pale blue eyes with an outfit that seemed tailor-made for him, while the other, bulkier man looked around his early thirties with dark hair and eyes.  The two men were both studying Mulder and Scully as the waitress set down the menu and offered to bring out water.

“Guess we know who the owner of the Rolls Royce is,” Mulder whispered in Scully’s ear as he pushed her chair in once she seated.  A hint of a smile played on her lips as Mulder sat across from her, his back to the men, but she refrained from cracking her icy demeanor when she knew they had an audience.  Breakfast typically not part of her usual routine, Scully ordered a café latte with an extra shot of espresso and an everything bagel with cream cheese.  Mulder ordered himself bacon and eggs, and black coffee.  He looked at Scully  pointedly  once the waitress scurried away with their menus.

“I don’t want to hear crap about your measly breakfast Scully if that’s the only meal you get to eat until dinner time.”  She rolled her eyes at Mulder and caught the older gentleman still studying her from his vantage point.  He smirked, then said something in Russian to the younger man who shook his head.

“Looks like we’re still being watched,” she murmured as she took a sip from her glass of water.  Mulder twisted in his seat to look back at the older man.   He turned back around after a couple seconds.

“I’m guessing the older guy’s the younger guy’s employer.  Based on his expensive taste in suits and the set of wheels parked out in front, he could either be a diplomat or a businessman,” Mulder said.  Scully raised an eyebrow.

“That’s your assessment after a three-second observation?”

“You got one better?   You have a  better view than  me.”  She shook her head,  letting out a h uff .

“Your assessment makes sense.  The younger guy could be the man’s bodyguard. ”  Their coffee drinks and food arrived, and the two of them  ate in comfortable silence.   Mulder checked the time  on his watch  in-between sipping his coffee and taking another bite of his breakfast.  

“It’s 7:30 now, Scully. You ready to head out?” He eyed her half-eaten bagel with cream cheese and watched as she down ed  the last of her latte.   She gestured the go-ahead for him to grab the other half of her bagel.

“I’m done ,” she replied.  As she got up from her seat, her jacket got caught on the right armrest flashing her FBI-issued Glock.  Muttering curses under her breath, she freed herself and smoothed down her coat.  She looked up and  met the older man’s surprised expression as the younger man quickly twisted in his seat to glare at her. She coolly arched her eyebrow at them in response.

“You okay, Scully?”  Mulder asked as he blocked her line of vision,  ready to leave.

“I’m fine, Mulder.  Just met my quota rattling a Russian diplomat or whatever he is.  It doesn’t matter since I’m sure we won’t see him again.”  She  turned and led the way out.


	3. According To Plan

Aboard the  _Queen Mary_ , 7:30 pm 

Scully politely joined in the applause as she finished listening to the keynote speaker Congressman Douglas Lane make an impassioned speech regarding Hemophilia A research.  While an agent was feeding her information about the guests sitting around the table on her earpiece, Scully took her time to study them: successful local businessman under the suspicion of money laundering; a film producer with possible ties to the Italian mafia; a financier suspicioned in a Ponzi scheme; and a judge known to have let Italian crime bosses walk out of his court room with a merely a fine.  Jesus, these were the congressman’s long-time associates? She looked at their respective wives, wondering about their wives’ level of innocence or duplicity.  The bustle started up again in the Grand Salon as the servers arrived with their appetizers while the local politician made his way to the table.  He was single, in his early-40's, and without a single gray strand in his dark hair.   Lane looked at Scully appreciatively as he extended a hand to her while requesting that she remain seated.  

“I believe we’ve never met,” he said as they shook hands, “I would recognize your pretty face if I did.”  Scully heard an indiscreet cough on her right and caught Mulder glaring at Lane while standing against the wall with the other servers as he muttered “Douche” loud and clear in her earpiece along with all the other agents who are plugged in.  She plastered on a fake smile aimed at the congressman while somehow managing to not outwardly roll her eyes at Mulder’s juvenile reaction.   

“I just recently transferred from DC after doing some foreign correspondence work,” she smoothly replied as Lane sat down in the empty chair beside her. 

“I don’t think I caught your name, Miss?...” 

“Because I never provided it.  It’s Autumn Delaney.” She smiled, inwardly at herself.  She should win an Academy Award for this, she thought, with her lack of sleep and all.  She’s usually not this smooth with fibs, except the time when she had to corroborate with Mulder’s fake death.  

“Pleasure to meet you, Autumn.  Please call me Doug.” With that, she completed her second directive: befriend Douglas Lane.  The third directive to this undercover operation was going to be the real challenge.  The two exchanged small talk as he formally introduced her to his friends.  Every so often, Scully would catch Mulder’s eye flitting back-and-forth from her to the congressman while he refilled the guests’ water cups or took away a place setting at her table.  Scully was trying to find an opportunity once desserts were being served, when a female voice belonging to AD Lauren Cage abruptly cursed through the earpiece and a commotion at the Grand Salon entrance caught the attention of some of the undercover agents and the guests. 


	4. The Actual Assignment

FBI  Field Office Lo ng Beach , CA  10 hours earlier 9: 30  am

They entered a packed conference room 10 minutes before the meeting started .   After deciding to stand in the back corner , Scully observed the crowd which ranged from seasoned field agents to ones that looked like they never saw the light of day.   A couple of agents were fidgeting with the projector at the front of the room.

“Why do you think we’re meeting here instead of the LA office?” she  asked  Mulder.  Before he could  respond, they overheard a couple  of  agents s itting  at the conference table lament how the planned  sting operation had to be canned due to a mole  in the original group.   This group was formed just  last week  based on the AD in charge’s  dogged  determination to nab the “motherfuckers” , and  “ thi s  occasion was too good to pass up.”   A willowy  woman in her m id-50 ’s dressed in a sharp  dark  skirt suit materialized from the crowd.  Her  light honey-blonde hair and  brown eyes surveyed the group before fixating them on Mulder and Scully for a beat.  She turned to the agents who told her the projector was working.   Seemingly satisfied, she called the meeting to order.

“That’s AD Lauren Cage,” Mulder whispered, his head bent barely grazing the top of Scully’s  right  temple  with his  nose .

“ Good morning, everyone,”  Cage  said , “ I want to thank you again for prioritizing all your time and effort  getting ready  for tonight’s event.  It wasn’t under the best circumstances that this task force was created, but for the safety of the individual men and women whose names were exposed in the planned sting operation  by a traitor , I found it imperative to start and plan again.  You were all chosen from  different field offices  within  this region  based on expertise.  The intel gathered this past week  helped formulate this new  operation.”

Scully  and Mulder looked at each other  equally  confused but continued to listen as the woman went through the logistics and the different responsibilities for each group created.  She presented the Queen Mary’s schematics  and  different task  forces ’ responsibilities and staging areas .

“A reliable source informed us th at th e  address book  is always on Congressman Douglas Lane.  It has every single contact  he does  underhanded  business  with and is the primary incriminating evidence needed to put some of the crime bosses away ,”  Cage  said.  A hand rose up from the front  belonging to a young  male agent .

“Yes, Agent Wilkins?” she asked.

“ With all due respect, M’am, but don’t  the crime lords know this too? Why don’t they steal  or kill him  for it?”

“Rumor has it that he set up  insurance for himself in case he met an unnatural, timely death or mishap that leaves him debilitated , something damaging enough for them to not lay a hand on him.”  The woman shook her head and shrugged.  “It’s anyone’s guess what it could be or how it will be executed on his end.  However, getting back on track, we have a couple of field agents who flew in from DC who will assist us on succeeding with tonight’s plan.  Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully will be the primary undercover agents  situated  near enough to the congressman to grab his address book.” 

“Whoa--” Scully started.

“Wait--”  Mulder said.  They both reacted at the same time.   Confused at the entire situation, Scully had Mulder speak first.  “Sorry, we were under the impression that this assignment was bodyguard  duty  for a local congressman.”

Cage’s  lips tightened to a thin line, her hazel eyes cutting through Mulder’s gaze until he shifted his weight, and broke eye contact.   Shit, Scully thought, a nd here  she  believed  she mastered  the  death glare . Cage  spoke, “Your impression is wrong, Agent Mulder.   When I requested help from Headquarters, not once did I state the nature of the help regarding the local congressman.  We couldn’t risk another leak.”  The room was dead silent as everyone in the room could sense the energy and tension emanating from the woman.  “As AD-In-Charge of this region, anything short of the congressman’s address book is a failure.”

Everyone  seated  thought she was going to  adjourn the meeting  as they were rustling in their seats, but then she clicked to the next  slide  in the projector showing a  grainy photo  of  a group of dark-haired men  in  suits walking towards  a  warehouse . “The CIA sent us intel regarding another layer.   It looks like Congressman Douglas Lane is  also  in cahoots  with the Russian mafia  who are trying to establish their global turf  in the US  starting in the west coast.    There was a deal  that went south  and this man…”  a pause as she click ed to the next slide  to a close-up shot  of the grainy photo, “was caught in the crossfire .  This incident became international due to the victim’s political connections.”

Scully’s eyes widened as she realized the man in the photo looked exactly like the older man at the café earlier this morning.   She looked up and caught Mulder’s eyes, confirming her newfound knowledge.  She uncrossed her arms and raised her right hand, grabbing Cage’s attention.  

“Yes, Agent Scully?”

“Would the political connections be familial? Agent Mulder and I ran into a man earlier today who could be the victim’s identical twin.”  

The AD-In-Charge managed to keep a straight face, though her complexion visibly paled, as she looked over to her left murmuring something to a couple of agents who promptly exited the room.  Cage then answered Scully’s question, “Yes the victim, Ivan  Turov , is the younger brother of Mikhail  Turov , Russia’s Minister of Foreign Affairs. ”

“The irony,” Mulder murmured  causing a  small  smirk to appear on Scully’s lips.   She kept her attention on the projector screen as Cage concluded the meeting.

“Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, if you two could please follow me,” Cage requested as she led them out of the conference room towards the elevators at the end of the hallway.  “ We’ re taking our meeting  off -site .” 

She pressed the button for the ground floor , staring up at the floor numbers descending.   Scully and Mulder were standing shoulder-to-shoulder.   Scully was about to lean back on the wall until she heard Mulder clear his throat.

“So , is Agent Scully and me going to pose as a couple again?” he asked.  Scully could see that Mulder wasn’t earning any  kudo  points when Cage turned  and  furrowed her brows at him  half-annoyed and confused.

“I didn’t realize this isn’t your first  undercover  stint  together  and no. You two will not be posing as a couple this time,” she answered. “Your boss recommended I utilize you two for this operation.  He said and I quote, ‘They’re quick on their feet when shit hits the fan.’”  Her hazel eyes hardened a little. “And shit is about to hit the fan if we can’t locate and monitor Mikhail.  He’s the wildcard in all this.  He is seeking revenge.”


	5. Not According To Plan

Aboard the _Queen Mary_ ,  8:45 pm 

“It’s Mikhail Turov!” The tone in Cage’s voice over the earpiece signified she was going to murder the men she tasked to hunt down the Russian diplomat.  How hard is it to locate a Rolls Royce with a Russian license plate in SoCal? _Apparently, it’s difficult_ , Scully thought to herself, as she mimicked the other guests and looked curiously at the door.   The undercover agent at coat check ran out of the Grand Salon giving a quick status update over the earpiece.   A staff member tried to turn away the uninvited guest but to no avail.  A sizeable group of onlookers surrounded the main doors of the banquet room as they watched the uninvited guest make his way beyond the check-in tables. 

“I’m here to meet Congressman Douglas Lane,” Mikhail said with a faint Russian accent.  He turned towards the guests, “If anyone would be so kind as to lead me to him.” 

“Do not allow Turov near the Congressman!” Cage ordered just as Lane was about to walk to the Grand Salon doors.  Scully roughly jerked Lane back by his suit jacket and somehow dislodged a small black notebook that fell to the floor unnoticed by him once he saw Turov’s face.  His face paled as he stood stock still muttering to himself “Ivan?”, which gave Scully the opportune time to snatch the black notebook off the ground and slip it into her clutch.  She tugged on Lane’s coat sleeve arm. 

“Hey, would you like me to talk to him? Foreign correspondence is my area of expertise after all,” Scully said to Lane.  She hoped she was believable as Lane looked down at her, blinking several times as if coming out of a trance. 

“Right, of course. Yes...” Lane trailed off, a drop of sweat dripping down the side of his face.   Scully straightened her shoulders and made her way to the front. 

“I think I have the notebook of interest,” Scully managed to say as she walked away from her table, her knees feeling wobbly.  She didn’t know how she could manage to walk in three-inch stilettos.  “But I’m about to blow my cover once I reach Mikhail.  I think he’d recognize me.” 

“I’ll create another distraction,” Mulder announced through the earpiece, “I hope you can amp up that charming persona, Miss Autumn Delaney.  You’re going to need it.” 

The live band started playing jazz music again, making Scully wonder when they had stopped playing.  She could see couples make their way to the dance floor as she walked along the perimeter of the floor peering over her shoulder to ensure that the congressman wasn’t following her.   

“Mulder, I need you to keep a lookout on Lane when he realizes his notebook is missing,” Scully said as she approached Mikhail Turov whose back was turned to her.   The man had changed out into a different tailored suit.  It was navy blue with maroon pinstripes.  She took a deep breath before she tapped him on the shoulder with her clutch.  He turned around.  Crinkles around his pale blue eyes appeared as he gave Scully a crooked smile. 

“Hello.” Scully inwardly groaned.  She didn’t think that far ahead of what to say to Turov, only to distract him from meeting Lane.  Turov fully turned to face her as he took in her appearance.  

“What a coincidence,” he said as he extended his hand. “Our second meeting and we haven’t introduced ourselves.  My name is Mikhail Turov.” 

“Autumn Delaney,” Scully replied as she reached out to shake his hand.  His smile turned into a sneer. 

“Is that right?” His grip on her hand tightened before he released it.  “I swore you go by a different name.” 

“We’re on our way to the banquet hall, Agent Scully,” Cage’s voice cut through the tension and anxiety Scully started to feel.  “Continue to distract Turov.”  

“Would you care to dance?” Scully asked slightly breathless from nerves.   

“Wonderful idea and I can never refuse a beautiful woman a dance.” He offered Scully his right arm for her to slip her hand through as they walked a few steps to the floor as the band started to play a different song.  

“You can drop the charade now,” he said once they started dancing. “I can see your partner shooting death glares at me.”  He turned them so that Scully could see what he saw, but she caught Mulder tidying a table.  

“Excellent, you wired,” Turov said smiling, “I’m assuming you two are here to protect the Congressman, but I’m letting you know that it’s futile.  This has been planned out for months, and we recently learned that the FBI decided to crash this event.” 

“Planned by who?”  

“By my late brother’s and my group, of course.  I want to meet the congressman and ask him what happened that day, but I suppose that is just whimsy on my part.” 

“You won’t get away with this.  Reinforcements are on their way,” Scully replied.  He pulled her closer to him and with his left hand tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing the small earpiece.  He pulled the earpiece off her still staring at her now widened eyes.  

“As you may have realized,” he said into the earpiece in his fingers, “the _Queen Mary_ is on complete lockdown by the organization since my arrival.  My men apprehended four undercover agents onboard, and I currently have two undercover agents within sight.  I highly suggest that you stand down and let my men settle unfinished business with Congressman Douglas Lane.”  Without waiting for a response, Turov dropped the earpiece to the ground and crushed it with his left foot.  Scully was on her own. 


	6. Mulder's Promise

Somewhere in Orange County,  9 hours earlier, 10:40 am 

“You’re having me be a server?” Mulder asked incredulously.  

“AD Skinner told me your observational skills are superb.  You’ll catch any suspicious behavior you see and anticipate what should be done to help our operation be successful,” Cage said.  Mulder scoffed. 

“While Agent Scully plays the femme fatale in this whole scheme?”   

“Agent Scully will play a key role in obtaining the address book.”  Cage’s hazel eyes flared seemingly glowing a golden color against the warm light of a small study room they were in at an empty residence meant to be used as witness protection. “I couldn’t risk anyone on the west coast this important assignment.  Not after the mole incident.” 

“So you risk us instead,” Mulder concluded glaring at the AD, “Duly noted.” 

“Enough, Mulder,” Scully sighed. “You agreed that we take on this assignment.  By the looks of things, we’re beyond the point of backing out.”   

She watched Mulder’s jaw clenched as he dragged his eyes away from Cage.  She looked over to the older woman.  “Could you give us a minute?”  Cage nodded, her lips still in a tight line as she exited the room.  Scully stood in front of Mulder, arms crossed. 

“Shit, Scully.  This wasn’t what I signed us up for when I agreed to tag this on for that elusive X-File.”  He perched himself on the desk, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped as he studied her.   She knew she looked like a walking zombie with information overload as she stretched her neck, tilting it from side to side. 

“Should we tell Skinner about this?  It sounded like he’s been misled too.”  Mulder worried his bottom lip as his hazel eyes held her gaze.   

“I think one last-minute phone call from California is more than enough for Skinner,” he said.  “We’ll draft the report for him.   I mean, he did recommend us to AD Cage, but I still don’t like this.   If things don’t go as planned--” 

“I’m not going to be a damsel-in-distress here, Mulder.”  She huffed out a breath.  “But I agree.  We’ll be in the same room, but...”  she didn’t want to continue her train of thought.  They’re more in-sync when they’re working as a team, being able to privately discuss their last-minute insights or plans without prying ears, being able to communicate when they’re near each other silently.   

“You’ll never leave my sight tonight, Scully,” Mulder stated interrupting Scully’s thoughts.  He was staring at her intently. 

“Huh?”  Mulder reached out his right hand and swept a lock of hair behind her ear before cupping her face. 

“I got your back, Scully.  If shit hits the fan, I’m coming for you.” 


	7. Escape and Shitty Timing

Aboard the _Queen Mary_ , 8:52 pm 

Scully swallowed past a large lump that formed in her throat as she watched Turov coolly lift his feet off the broken earpiece.  He continued their dance, though admittedly Scully had become a more rigid partner as she quickly glanced around seeking Mulder.  Turov let out a low chuckle.  “What will you do now, Miss Autumn Delaney?” 

“What’s going to happen?  Since I’m no longer bugged, you can tell me, right?  Will the guests be in danger?” He somehow had them travel to the far side of the dance floor close to the jazz band, and fortunately further away from her table.  She glanced at her table and noticed Lane patting his suit jacket and frowned as he searched under his seat.  _Shit_ , she thought to herself, _where the hell is Mulder_? 

“It all depends on the congressman,” Turov answered then shrugged.  “He’s more useful to us alive than dead, but he would wish for death once we’re through with him.”  Before she could respond, she heard Mulder’s voice from behind her. 

“I hate to break this dance up, but I’m stealing her away from you,” Mulder said as he grabbed her arm that was resting on Turov’s shoulder.  The move surprised the Russian as Scully quickly dislodged herself from him, and Mulder guided her off the dance floor.  She looked over her shoulder and saw Lane approaching them through the crowd. 

“Mulder--” she started, but he quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet confusing her as she gripped his forearm.  “Mulder, what are you doing?” 

“Trying to beat the impending stampede, Scully,” He practically rushed them to the main doors.  “3, 2, 1...”  A loud shrill of the fire alarm sounded off on the ship just as the two passed through the doors. 

“This was your idea of a distraction?!” Scully yelled over the alarm.  She could barely hear herself. 

“It was the second part!  The first part was the jazz music!”  he shouted back.  “Shit, Scully, as much as I love to hold you in my arms, this isn’t my idea of a quick exit!”  She wiggled out of his hold to take off her stilettos.  

“I would modify the dress and shuck the shoes, but these are on loan from the AD Cage’s friend who is a costume designer for Hollywood!” It started to become pure mayhem in the hallway as guests quickly exited the banquet hall while others came out of their rooms.   

“Turov mentioned the ship is on lockdown by his men!” 

“Guess we’ll have the Long Beach Fire Department test that out!” He gripped her left wrist and continued to have them run down the hallway towards the starboard bow.  Mulder had her step out onto the balcony first as he made sure no one was following them.  They both slid down against the ship’s wall sinking to the ground as the initial adrenaline finished coursing through their systems.  Fortunately, the sound of the fire alarm was muffled once outside.  Mulder picked up the clutch placed between them and opened it.  He handed the Glock over to Scully, which she put on her side, then grabbed the black notebook out to flip through it.  There were names, addresses, and random locations and acronyms written beside them. 

“All the trouble for this,” he mumbled.  He tossed it towards the darkest corner of the balcony, having it blend in with the darkness. Silence fell between them for a few more minutes.  Scully observed the moonless, clear summer night sky with the twinkling stars.  She knew Mulder was doing the same. 

“What time is it?” Scully finally asked.  Mulder checked his watch. 

“It’s 9:26.” 

“I’ve officially been up for more than 40 hours.” 

“Insomnia becomes you, Scully.” That remark earned him a jab on his upper arm.  He chuckled.  “If it makes you feel better, misery loves company?” 

Scully shook her head. “No, but thanks for keeping company.  How long should we stay out here?” 

“Until the cavalry arrives?” 

“Do you still have your earpiece on?”  He shook his head. 

“I threw it out once I heard Turov’s spiel about the FBI cramping their plan.  I also didn’t need to hear Cage cursing and barking out orders at me.  You got the address book.  I had to make sure I got to you safely.”   

“And you did,” she said in a low tone. Scully reached out and tentatively gripped his right hand with her left.   

“I did.”  Mulder adjusted his hand by widening his fingers for her fingers to slip through and squeezed gently.  She could sense his gaze on her as she rolled her head against the wall and looked up at him.  

“What is it, Mulder?” She couldn’t see his eyes too well from the dim lighting that the balcony light provided.   She could make out his features based on the contrasts of shadow and light that hit his face.  

“You’ve already heard two unscrupulous men mention this to you, but you look nice tonight, Scully, despite the circumstances.”  She quirked an eyebrow at him and an amused smile. 

“They didn’t use the term ‘nice,’ Mulder.”  

“Pretty, beautiful, whatever.  You look stunning, Scully.  Tonight was more jarring to me than usual with this number on you.   This whole evening sent me in for a loop, but I had to be on my A-game.” 

She let out a huff.  “What? The 1940’s theme?”   

Mulder released his grip and had his fingers lightly skim the fabric against her thigh, sending a jolt of electricity straight to Scully’s heart.  She held her breath as he murmured, “It’s the same shade too.  When I was on the _Queen Anne_...” 

Scully was at a loss for words.  This dress was the same shade as his hallucinogenic trip in the Bermuda Triangle.  He was high as a kite once he came to, but his words still cut through her like a giddy teenage girl receiving a letter from her high school crush.  His stupid declaration of love with a smug smile on his lips.   

“Hey,” he murmured, breaking her out of her reverie.  His hand cupped her jaw and tilted her face up towards him, exposing her throat that she knew illuminated from the dim lighting.  “Where did you go?” 

“Nowhere,” she managed to answer, “I’m right here.”  He watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed, then returned his hooded gaze to her flushed face.   

“This dress looks better than the one in the Bermuda Triangle,” he continued to talk as he brought his face closer to her, their foreheads touching. 

“Yeah?” They were breathing the same air now. This incremental space between them heady given their current situation and circumstance.  She could feel Mulder’s warm breath against her skin as he lifted his head away and turned hers to the side, exposing her neck.   

“It’s because it’s really you this time,” he whispered in her ear before placing his lips right behind it, feeling the pulse of her carotid artery.  They both heard muffled footsteps approaching the balcony. Mulder sighed then stood up, and helped Scully onto her feet.  He pulled out his Glock, and pointed at the doorway as they heard the handle jiggle. “We still have the shittiest timing, though.”    


	8. Epilogue

Hoover Building, two days later in the afternoon 

The two sat in their usual seats across from a scowling Skinner as they recount the COPS filming the elusive X-File and the somewhat successful bodyguard-turned-sting-operation.   He flipped through the report and underlined a few things for himself. 

“The FBI and local police located and detained Congressman Douglas Lane on several criminal charges.  He went with AD Cage’s agents willingly, mentioning that he needed protection from the Russian mafia,” Scully said, “The notebook retrieved on the balcony had incriminating evidence against two Italian underbosses from separate crime families.” 

“As for Mikhail Turov, the Russian consulate maintained that he was in the States on a business trip and wanted to meet the local politician to establish a rapport,” Mulder added. 

“While I’m proud of your commitment, I can’t say that I’m disappointed not hearing from either of you about this sting operation headed by AD Lauren Cage.  I have no idea how she runs her command over there, but this issue will be discussed among the senior directors and the OPR,” Skinner said as he quickly adjusted his glasses.  “Do you two have anything more to add?” 

Mulder and Scully glanced at one another, then Scully answered, “No, Sir.” 

“Have a good weekend,” Skinner replied and dismissed them from his office. 

As they entered the elevator to return to the basement to retrieve their belongings, Mulder looked down at Scully with a smug smile on his face.  “Nothing more to add, huh?” 

Color rose to her cheeks as she avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead. “Nope.” 

Mulder hummed.  “That’s a shame, and here I thought we shared a moment.”   

Scully looked up at him, seeing the playfulness in his eyes.  He continued, “What are your plans this weekend, Scully?” 

“It depends.  Is it an X-File?”  He chewed on his bottom lip, looking thoughtful.  The elevator doors opened, and the two of them walked to the office in-step with each other. 

“It could be categorized as that, yeah.”  She smiled at him sweetly. 

“Then, I’m busy.”  She could see a twinge of hurt and disappointment cross his face as he unlocked the office door.  She changed her tone, becoming playful.  “I’m hoping to convince someone to join me tomorrow night and watch the latest James Bond installment while grubbing on take-out instead.”  

“Yeah? What if your someone already made plans?” Mulder was sulking, but she could make out a quirk at the corner of his lips. 

“Then I guess I could always invite Frohike over.”  He snorted as Scully entered the office first to retrieve her coat and purse from her work station.  Mulder turned off the computer and quickly tidied the desk.   

“Yeah, that’s not happening.  Movie nights are  _our_  thing, Scully.  I’m in,” he said.  Before she could say anything, he added, “And this time I won’t be bringing any potential cases over.  I think we both need this much needed weekend to rest.”  She motioned him to head out first and locked the office door.  They strolled back to the elevators. 

“Mulder, I have a confession to make: since our partnership, I’ve NEVER wanted you to bring over potential cases to discuss with me off-hours.”  

“There were some great, valid X-File cases that came out of it, Scully.” 

“Yeah? List one.” 

“That UFO sighting at Fitch Mountain.” 

“When you nearly broke your neck after you lost your footing on the terrain?” 

“That Pukwudgie case up in Vermont.”   

“When you nearly got killed by a crazed maniac?” 

“Alright, how about that time we flew into Kroner?” 

“When you were almost killed by a flying cow? Or when Sheila kissed you right after you ‘saved her life’?”  Mulder cringed at the memories. 

“All those cases were solved.”  She couldn’t argue with him on that.  She closed her eyes for a brief moment as they waited for the elevators.  She couldn’t help but smile as she felt a light brush of his fingers sweeping a lock of hair behind her ear.  She opened her eyes and looked at him earnestly.  

“Even though I never wanted to talk shop with you off-hours, I didn’t mind it either.  I like just hanging out with you.” Her confession sounded so juvenile.  She could see the gold flecks in his hazel eyes as he took in her honesty.  He smiled. 

“I like hanging out with you too, Scully.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, I stressed for being such a procrastinator. @RationalCashew hoped you enjoy this silly not so MSR story. I got caught up with their objective.


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